


amuse-bouche & mission briefs (there's nothing brief about them)

by greyorchids



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Force Bond (Star Wars), Inappropriate Use of the Force, Love Potion/Spell, Redeemed Ben Solo, Spells & Enchantments, kind of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-24
Updated: 2018-09-06
Packaged: 2019-07-01 23:44:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15784581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greyorchids/pseuds/greyorchids
Summary: After Kylo Ren defects to the light, Rey must work alongside her (not quite) enemy-turned-copilot.The caves aren’t at all what I was expecting. There are holes everywhere in the rock so quite a lot of sunlight beats through. It makes it look a lot less intimidating and I feel my shoulders relax as we walk through narrow tunnels. He has to duck often, which makes me smirk - more than once I feel him through the force bite back with something along the lines of, “I wouldn’t laugh too hard if I were you.”I smile anyways.As we walk deeper, the temperature drops and my body shivers. He turns back and glances at me, the question thrumming through the bond. “Is everything alright?”“I’m just cold.” I think quickly.“I’m just checking.” He thinks just as quick.





	1. Chapter 1

_I'm falling for you now, but you're gone before I hit the ground._  
_What little peace we found, don't ever let me out._  
_And I'm waiting for it now, the minutes become ours to hold._  
_We're carrying this doubt, between the time._  
_And I'm falling faster now, and I'll never make a sound, no._

_\- Beacon | Backbone_

 

* * *

 

 

“Can you please, for once in your life, just _shut up_?” I spit, grabbing the jagged cliff above me, feet slipping on the crumbling rock. The light coloured cliff seemed to glitter in the high afternoon sun.

“ - well you’d think with the amount of time you spent on Jakku that you’d be able to navigate this desert terrain with a bit more...grace.” He follows behind my fumbling form, gripping the rock with an intuitive fluidity that makes my mouth press into a sharp line.

For _weeks_ when he got to the base you couldn’t get him to say a word. Not that many people were trying to talk to him. It had been frustrating; staring at his stoic face across boardroom tables as if he were a projection of a person. His eyes were dark, wounded. He hovered like an untethered shadow, out of place and unnatural under the bright lights of the Resistance.

Leia had quickly identified that keeping him on-base was too problematic and he had jumped from mission to mission shortly after he arrived. At first, I was assigned to accompany him because no one trusted him and Leia knew he couldn’t hide himself from me. Then it was because no one else wanted to and Leia’s soft eyes convinced me I was doing the Right Thing. And now it is because we have had too much success on our missions and Leia no longer asks at all. Somewhere along the way, he discovered he _didn’t_ mind talking to me after all and now I can’t get him to stop.

It seems that Ben Solo was making up for lost time.  

“I am not going to ask you again.” I curse, hand slipping off the edge and I press myself close against the champagne rock in front of me. I can feel him smile below and my eye twitches. I try not to look down, the cliff is a steep and delicate crevasse - certain death awaits if I lose my hold. My hands are shaking badly and I know this is why I keep slipping. “ _I hate heights, I hate heights, I hate heights - “_

“You’re projecting again.” He interrupts, not unkindly. I close my eyes and try to breathe. When he speaks again he is beside me.

“How can you be afraid of heights if you’re a pilot?” The question comes across genuine enough that I don’t bite his head off when I reply.

“This is very different, isn’t it?” I ask, not needing an answer.

“Well, we can’t stop, you have to keep going.” His no-nonsense and even voice doesn’t quite encourage me. I choose not to reply and instead I open my eyes - focusing very carefully on selecting my next edge.

“Not that one. To your left.” He continues, tone serious. I clench my jaw but follow his directions, my discomfort increasing at an alarming rate.

I follow his lead until we reach the top. He easily pulls himself up and over the edge and his dark-framed face immediately appears above me to observe my struggle.  

“You’re right here, just pull yourself up.” He says softly.

“No.” I can barely hear myself over the thrum of blood pulsing at my temples.

“What do you mean, no? We have to move - quickly.” He tone is low and frustrated.

I am breathing hard against the rock, “I can’t. I’m sorry, I just can’t” _Just leave me here to die._ He lets out a long suffering breath.

“And you say _I_ am dramatic.” Without warning I feel his hands wrap around my forearms and he pulls, hard. When I open my eyes, I am face down on the cliff’s surface and my fingers reflexively grip at the rough grass beneath my fingers. For a moment too long, I simply lay there, breathing and massaging the blessed solid earth beneath me.

“Are you _just_ about finished?” He asks, now standing and taking note of our whereabouts on his datapad. I look up at him and slowly rise, brushing myself off and raising my chin. I refuse to apologize for a completely normal reaction to an awful situation.

“According to our map, the cave is that way.” He points behind us and we begin our trek. He doesn’t talk, mercifully, and I slowly feel my heart rate return to normal. My breathing is quick to follow. I pull out some water from my pack and down half the contents as we walk through a dry forest of rotting woods and parched leaves.

It became apparent early on that he preferred to be “in command” on the missions so I let him have the small victories of holding the datapad and informing me of the history behind the planets we visit. As if on command, he quietly speaks, turning back ever so slightly.

“Did you know, this dusty rock was once a water-logged planet?” I shake my head, knowing he can’t see me.

“You can thank the Niighaughts for what is left,” he continues - his dark voice echoless, “the magic they performed here depleted the planet of nearly all of its natural resources.” I try to stay engaged because I know he takes these history lessons Very Seriously.

“Are there any living creatures here?” I ask quietly.

“I guess it depends on what you mean by living. Nearly everything left that ‘lives’ here does so through enchantment.” He holds a large branch out of the way as I pass it and we continue on side by side.

“Enchantment?” I ask, suddenly regretting the fact that I didn’t read the mission overview. He shakes his head.

“Do you just ignore the work I put into the pre-mission briefs?” He bristles and I feel a hot strike of guilt.

“No! They are just...very thorough.” I glance at his face, a scowl already appearing on his features.

“Plus, you tell me everything in person anyways and I am an auditory learner.” I add, watching his frown soften a bit at the smile in my voice.

“...Well then I should definitely _tell_ you that everything on this planet is alive through Niighaughts magic. Nothing is real, it is all unnatural.” He looks around and I do too, now with a critical eye.

“So what does that mean, exactly?” I press, suddenly feeling a dark cloud of distrust bloom in my chest at the thought of this place. There is a sort of...artificial quality to the trees and rotting growth around us. Like everything has been dusted with a fine iridescent glitter.

“It means things can get weird.” I snap to face him and his uncharacteristically casual tone. What in the galaxy -

“What do you mean, _weird_?” The panic in voice makes him smile which causes me to clench my jaw.

“As detailed in my _pre-mission briefs_ ,” his voice is haughty, “the animals, plant life - it is all fueled by enchantments and often cause unexpected reactions like...making a person think they are on fire or causing someone to think their best friend is a demon.” He doesn’t seem fazed by anything he just said and I stop dead in my tracks. After a beat he stops and turns to face me.

“What’s the problem?” He asks, glancing down at his datapad.

“Uh, the problem is that I wasn’t aware we landed on nightmare island.” His face barely flinches but I still see the twitch of a smile.

“Maybe next time you’ll read the briefs.” He says in a very annoying tone and he turns to continue walking.

“First, there is nothing _brief_ about your briefs, and second, why aren’t you more concerned?” He frowns at my words and as I catch up to him he glances at me carefully.

“I guess comparatively,” he says with paused breath, “those things don’t seem that bad. All things considered.” I study his features which have fallen back into a stony resolve and I let out a defeated breath.

“Is there anything else I should know about?” I ask as I cautiously look around in search of one of these horrifying creatures.

“Not really. Maybe keep an eye out for truth dust, insanity bugs and pools of desire.” I roll my eyes.

“Ha, ha,” I overpronounce to let him know _exactly_ how unfunny I think he is, “you’re hilarious.” I catch his eyebrow hitch out of the corner of my eye.

“You’re joking.” I half ask, half demand. When he doesn’t reply my veins flood with ice.

“You have to be joking. Are you joking? Please tell me you’re joking.” I ask with escalating concern. He laughs outright at this and I feel my face flush.

“I guess you’ll have to wait and see.” He smirks and I groan, beyond irritated, as I follow him towards the caves.

__

* * *

__

The caves aren’t at all what I was expecting. There are holes everywhere in the rock so quite a lot of sunlight beats through. It makes it look a lot less intimidating and I feel my shoulders relax as we walk through narrow tunnels. He has to duck often, which makes me smirk - more than once I feel him through the force bite back with something along the lines of, “ _I wouldn’t laugh too hard if I were you.”_

I smile anyways.

As we walk deeper, the temperature drops and my body shivers. He turns back and glances at me, the question thrumming through the bond. _“Is everything alright?”_

 _“I’m just cold.”_ I think quickly.

 _“I’m just checking.”_ He thinks just as quick.

The deeper we walk the colder it gets. Despite the narrowing beams of light, it feels like the walls are turning to ice.

“Saber ready?” He asks and I feel myself tune into him with high alertness. Poe likes to joke that the only reason we have such a high success rate is because of the force bond. It certainly helps but I’d like to think there is a little more to it than that.

I clear my thoughts, knowing he is very close to them. Sometimes when we are open with each other it becomes hard to distinguish thoughts, feelings...emotions. It all blends into something unexplainable.

A few moments pass and we reach the center, a large space with pedestals and alcoves and glowing trinkets.

“Collect as much as you can, but don’t touch anything. And if it doesn’t fit in the containment bags, just leave it.” He commands, already putting on his gloves. I slip my pack around and crouch over it, preparing to haul back as many artifacts as I can carry.

I sneeze and he spins on his heel, eyes wide.

“What?” I ask, pulling on my gloves and standing.

“Nothing.” He turns as I give him a quizzical look.

The sharp lines of his nose and mouth catch the light here in a way that almost makes him look...young. Soft. The striking contrast of his dark hair and eyebrows create a complicated attractiveness that ignores convention and favours the appeal of something uncommon. Unique.

I remember the confusion I had felt the first time he took off his mask. Disbelieving that _his_ was the face that had caused so much suffering. Even the lines in his skin reveal the emotion of his thoughts - I remember thinking his eyes couldn’t belong to a person with so much hate in their heart. They are like endless pools of emotion and it is hard not to fall into them.

“You’re much more attractive than I had thought you’d be.” The words barely escape my mouth before I have both hands clamped around my jaw, eyes wide. He turns, his expression the epitome of smug.

“Is that so?” He asks, his stupid smirk would be charming if it were attached to anyone else. I close my eyes and groan into my hands. He points at the air around me with an accusatory swirl.

“Truth dust.” He says as if this was my punishment for ignoring his precious mission briefs.

I want to throw myself off this cliff, pretty much immediately. I am so scared to remove my hands but he continues to work, graciously not making fun of my confession any more than he already has. I let my hands fall.

There are some privacies the bond doesn’t afford us and part of me thinks he must have already _known_ . Just as I _know_ things he feels or thinks. But it is always different to say something aloud. Feelings are fleeting - almost reflexive. Words place an anchor to your emotions and committing myself to the fact that I think Ben Solo is handsome is far past my comfort zone. Very far past.

“Don’t say anything. Don’t ask me anything.” I warn, shaking as I pull on my gloves.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He responds, placing artifacts into bags with a self-satisfied grin still splitting his features. I will knock it off his face as soon as we are out of here.  

Very carefully, I follow his lead. I place items into bags and avoid his eyes. Why maker, _why?_

Suddenly I hear a rumble from outside the cave and he ignites his saber, the restless crackle is soothing to my ears. I ignite my newly created saberstaff and we face the entrance with a held breath.

In a burst of light and sound two bats speed into the small space of the cave, knocking over items and swooping into alcoves releasing a party of blood-red butterflies and an even darker red snake. I turn my staff, moving quickly and slicing up into one of the flying devils. The snake slithers across the room and I miss it as I try to block it from getting past me.

“Don’t let the butterflies touch you!” He warns, slicing through the snake and the remaining bat with a deafening strike of his saber.

I duck my head and stare at a cluster of butterflies that beat their wings softly against the rock above our heads.

“Why?” I ask with a frown.

“They make you hallucinate your worst fears.” He says, voice low. “It’s temporary, everything here is temporary.” He says moving towards me slowly and picks up his bag. Thank goodness for small miracles.

We move in silence, both gingerly placing magicked items into bags. I can feel his ego glowing from my side of the bond and I roll my eyes. We have both had our share of thoughts and moments we would rather not involve the other in. New day, new force bond embarrassment.

He sneezes and I feel my face light up.

He glares at me and holds up a hand, “Don’t.” He warns but I already feel myself grinning like a fool.

“Do you really think porgs are hideous balls of annoyance?” I ask sweetly.

“They are actually really cute and I -” He cuts himself off, hand pressing hard into his mouth and I feel him snap back through the bond, severing our tie. I laugh out into the cave, and he death-glares at me over his gloved fist.

“Ha, this mission just became worth it. No matter what happens.” I smile harder at his scowl and he grumbles, not meeting my eyes.

Suddenly I feel something featherlight on my face and I quickly wipe my hand over myself. Feeling something wet and foreign, I pull my hand away to reveal smushed and bloody butterfly wings. I gasp and jump up, the balled up carcass still in my hand.

“Rey.” His voice is steady but alarmed. I feel our bond reconnect and he begins to speak, but it sounds different. It sounds -

I look up to see Kylo Ren. Not Ben Solo, but murderous and violent Supreme Leader _Kylo Ren_. And he’s in full battle regalia. His mask is the darkest shade of black I’ve ever seen. I stumble backwards, igniting my saber as my spine hits the cave wall and my breath hitches.

“Rey, what do you see? It’s me.” His voice is so distilled and it makes me shiver. I can smell the leather of the not-quite-forgotten wardrobe he would so often wear. I know it isn’t real, but a small voice echoes behind my logic and asks, _“what if it is?”_

“Don’t come any closer.” I breathe, there is blood seeping towards me and I search for the source, fear rising in my chest.

Looking rapidly around the cave I see it. The saber-skewered corpse of Han Solo stares up at me with lifeless eyes and I scream. I can feel the connection of our bond press inwards - he wants to see what I see but I shut him out, swearing and breathing hard.

“It isn’t real, just stay with me. Whatever it is, it will disappear in a minute.” His distorted voice gains volume and I grip my saber, face turning towards his masked form. He steps towards me and I raise my arm. He is wrong. This is real, or it least is _was_ real, not too long ago. I shake my head and close my eyes.

 _“He isn’t Kylo Ren, he isn’t Kylo Ren, he_ isn’t _Kylo Ren.”_ I hear him suck in a harsh breath and I know he’s heard me. My eyes fly open and I stare at him, my line of sight bouncing around his mask, desperate to see the eyes that have always belonged to Ben Solo. He doesn’t move, chest rising with each laboured breath.

“Even if I was,” he speaks slowly, “he wasn’t a match for you anyways. Don’t fear what you’ve already conquered.” I hear Chewie’s scream echoing in the cave and I shudder. This planet sucks. I lower my saber, extinguishing it with a quiet sigh. I turn away from him and lower myself to the floor. Pressing my face between my knees, I decide to ride out the hallucination in darkness. He follows my lead, coming in front of me and kneeling down in a graceful bow.

“You’ve already killed Kylo Ren.” When his voice hits my eardrums it is free of the modified darkness of the mask and I raise my head just enough to see the smooth pale expanse of his skin.

“Ben.” I whisper.

I hate saying his name. It feels like giving him a gift I am not sure he deserves. It also feels impossibly...intimate although I can’t stop myself now that I can see him. Despite how vulnerable I feel when I say it, I can always - _always_ \- feel the tug of comfort from him when he hears it from my lips. Now is no exception and the bond floods with warmth and relief. Mine and his.

We both seem content to let the feeling settle around us and I avoid his eyes - instead I stare at the ball of red-black butterfly parts on the ground. He doesn’t say anything, instead he stands slowly, his hand appearing in front of me with a wordless offer. I take it, standing slowly and brushing off the cave dust.

 _“Okay. Let’s keep going.”_ I know he hears me because he steps back, giving me a wide breadth.

It isn’t that I am afraid of Kylo Ren the person...The thought fades into the shadows of my mind. My fear is that this is all a lie. Him leaving the First Order. Reuniting with his mother. Fighting alongside me and doing all these missions...that it could simply be an act. The means to an end that doesn’t involve The Resistance. It was never the mask I was afraid of, it was what it represented. I am afraid he will betray us. Betray me.

I feel a hollow pit begin to form in my stomach at the thought because of course it is _possible_. But it would mean that every second he’s open with me through the bond...every conversation we’ve had, every moment...

 _“Is that what you really think?”_ His voice spills into my thoughts with a cool blush - confusion and gentleness wrap around the words.

 _“It’s what I really fear. Evidently.”_ I pick up the bag, ignoring the tremor of my fingers.

“There are some things we cannot hide from each other.” He says, voice soft but it still cuts through me. The endless meaning behind those words leaves me shaken and when his hand reaches my shoulder to turn me to face him, I let him.

His eyes are searching. Apprehensive as they are aching. They soften whatever accusation was building inside me. Pulling me in towards him, his fingers frame my face and I watch his brow furrow.

“But you should know by now I’m not _trying_ to hide from you.” The low timbre of his voice feels like silk. I breathe out, eyes closing. His hand is warm and strong against my skin and I let the feeling of balance wash over me. This is a familiar place for us. That “just-before” and “not-quite” state of being where there is commitment to nothing and plausible deniability for everything.

“I do know.” I breathe out quietly and he steadies me with a squeeze of his hand on my shoulder.

“Can we go now?” I ask after a beat and I don’t try to sound anything other than _over it_. He surveys the cave and then me, his face unreadable. I can feel my discomfort radiating off of me through the bond and he nods tightly.

“Yeah. We can go.”

 

Leaving the cave is a quiet affair. I try not to think too loudly and he doesn’t let me know if I succeed one way or the other. 

At least he finally stopped talking.

 

Except now I miss it. 

 

* * *

 

 

_It's only but the fog, my dear, it picks you up and'll soon be clear._

_I'm falling for you now, but you're gone before I hit the ground._

_-Beacon | Backbone_

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

_If I were a geisha would I find you in my blush?_   
_If I were a painter would I find you in my brush?_   
_Ink commits to paper what time will dissolve._   
_And all through the world is where I find you._

_\- Dustin Tebbutt | Where I find you_

* * *

 

As we approach the rocky edge ahead of us I feel a different wave of discomfort - fear. Although the way down may be easier than the way up, I am not looking forward to the process of getting off this cliff. We stop to pull out our parachutes and my heart sinks.

I forgot the blasted thing on the ship.

I curse and bite my lip. How could I possibly have forgotten the parachute? Today is just not my day. When I finally look up towards him, he is already staring at me and I _know_ he knows.

“It’s fine. You can come down with me.” He finishes strapping himself in while I practice taking deep breaths and trying not to burst into tears in front of him

In the distance I see birds, a flock of them swirling around the sky. I remember his warning about anything that looks “alive” and silently pray they don’t come near us. “ _Maker knows what fresh hell they would bestow upon us.”_

“They make you forget.” He answers outside of the bond with a stilted laugh. His eyes had followed my own and he watches the birds carefully.

“Okay, now you’re just showing off.” I shake my head and pull my backpack back on.

“You’re just _really_ loud today.” He answers quietly with a matter-of-fact shrug.

I feel my cheeks warm. There are a couple of reasons why I think I would have been a great Jedi, but controlling my emotions isn’t one of them. I bite back a retort that he can be loud too. Maybe it is a lot less often, but it does happen and when it does, it is _deafening_.

“You ready?” He asks and I follow him as he starts walking back from the cliff to get a running jump. The parachute is already filling behind him, the wind pressing the fabric open with every gust and my stomach flips.

“How exactly is this going to work?” I ask staring out at the jump in front of us. His hand circles my wrist which sends something hot and sharp through my limb as if he’s touched a live wire. I stumble back a bit but he appears nonplussed.

“When we get to the edge I am going to pull you towards me. All you have to do is hold on.” He tugs my arm up around his neck to demonstrate and this whole ordeal becomes much more stressful for me.

“You’re telling me that the only thing keeping me from falling to my death is my ability to hold on to _you_?”

“I’ll hold you back, don’t worry.” He isn’t looking at me but rather zipping up pockets and I ignore, rather purposefully, how my heart stops at his words.

If he notices he doesn’t let on. The logistics of the jump seem sketchy to me at _best_ and I can feel that familiar stiffness begin to take hold.

This day cannot get any worse.

His large hand circles my upper arm with a near-painful grip as he gets ready to sprint.

“Don’t forget, we have the force at our disposal.” His tone is soft and I sigh, a reluctant acceptance taking over. Then, with a pointed glance at each other, we take off towards the cliff’s edge and towards my certain death.

I know from experience just how fast I have to run to keep up with his strides and when we are a step away from the edge of the world he pulls me hard into him and sends us flying into nothingness. I resist the urge to scream as the freefall embraces me. My arms are wrapped painfully tight around his neck and my legs are around his middle with enough force to snip him in half, I’m sure. Although he keeps his promise - his arms are tight around me too.

After an excruciating 12 seconds the force of the parachute catching the air pulls us up - hard and with a forceful jerk as we begin a slower freefall to the earth below.

I do scream a bit at that. My eyes are closed and my face is pressed into his chest as I alternate between swearing and praying to any diety I can think of. I can feel him laughing but I am too terrified to be upset about it. He is so warm. And solid. I press into it and let myself relax at his familiar smell. After a beat he swears above me and his grip tightens.

“Hey uh, Rey? We might have a problem.” I can barely hear him as he shouts into my ear.

“Don’t say that!” I scream and somehow dig myself deeper into his skin.

He starts to talk to himself and I feel him try to redirect the course of our parachute without the use of his arms. He’s avoiding something. Is it an enemy? More scary butterflies? At this point I don’t even care, as long as it is on solid earth.

“Something is about to happen and we need to be prepared for it.” He says with a calmness that should scare me more than it does.

“Just tell me what it is!” I shout, my eyes still sealed shut.

“We are about to land. When we do, you need to get as far away from me as possible.” He replies without a hint of humour.

“What?! Why? I am not going anywhere.” I reply hotly.

“This isn’t a request. When we land you need to run.”

“Run where? For how long? This absolutely was _not_ in the briefs!”

“You wouldn’t know, because you never read them! For once just _listen_ to me and when we land, run to the ship and lock the door.” His tone is brash and I realize he’s...frightened. I close my mouth from the argument on my tongue and open my eyes. We are drifting down at a reasonable pace so I chance a look at the ground below us. The planet’s suns are reflecting off the sand and grass covered earth. Glowing like a beacon of hope.

“There is nothing down there, why are you freaking out?” I shout up at him. He shakes his head and I realize his face is stricken.

“There _is_ something down there. And it can be very dangerous. Don’t fight me on this.” His voice is pleading.

“Okay. I’ll run. But if you don’t return to the ship as soon as possible I will get out and hunt you down.”

“His laugh is mirthless, “You won’t have to worry about that.”  

The ground is coming up on us fast and he softens his grip on me.

“Promise me. Please. Promise me no matter what happens you’ll just run.” His fear is palpable and so I relent, shaking my head.

“I promise.” I answer and he hits the ground first. Except it isn’t quite ground. Our limbs are tangled and the force of landing sends us flying into the weird glittery earth, my mouth and lungs filling with...something silver with a consistency between water and air.

What the kriff is this? It _feels_ like water, except it isn’t actually wet. As I am coughing up the weird silver substance I can hear him stand, pulling me up.

“Rey, what are you doing? Get out of here _now_.” I am prepared to run. I really am. But then it happens.

I look up at him and my vision darkens around him, a rush of warmth flooding me until it pools at my core. He’s brushed with sweat, his eyes glittering and the shapely muscle beneath his clothes can’t hide the strength he possesses. Watching him untangle himself from the parachute, I can feel something hot and terrifying bubbling up through my chest.

He’s perfect. I mean, actually _perfect_. His hair frames his face in a delicious way that makes me want to twirl it between my fingers and pull on it just to hear a gasp of pleasure leave his lips. My eyes fall to his mouth… his lips are pillowy and soft and commanding all at once -

“Something is happening.” I gasp, my hand covering my mouth. He swears and runs a hand through that perfect mane and when his eyes meet mine they are dark and hungry and it sets me on fire.

“You’ve got to go, Rey. I think it’s too late.” He answers, running his tongue over his lips and I can feel it in my core.

“I want you.” I whisper, shocking myself and his face clinches as if in pain.

“The feeling isn’t real,” he replies through gritted teeth, “this is a pool of desire.”  Even as he says it my mind dismisses it.

“No, Ben, this is different. I want you for real.” I say, and I feel every atom in my body agree with me. He swallows and tries to move out of the alien substance.

‘It isn’t different. It is temporary.” He answers with clenched fists. I can feel through the bond that he is losing his self control and my desperate skin delights in it. I want his hands all over me. And inside me. I want all of him. I want him to claim every inch of my flesh with his mouth, and fill me with his -

His face snaps up and I know he’s heard me.

“Stop, Rey. Please. You’ve got to go before it is too late.” He grinds out as if it hurts him to say it.

“Or what?” I ask, stepping towards him. He doesn’t answer, just watches me walk towards him with equal parts fear and want etched into his face.

“Or I’ll do something I can’t take back.” The darkness in his voice barrels through me and as I reach him and I feel a swell of heat in my chest. It feels like my lungs are exploding. This. This is the part of Ben Solo that scares me as much as it excites me.

“I really, _really_ want you to.” The words are barely off of my lips before he advances on me, his hand at the back of my neck. He pulls me close as he restrains himself against me. It takes my breath away. His free hand is on my face, my arms, my breast, my hips and I pull him closer, his heat making me melt into his arms.

“The way you smell drives me insane.” I gasp into his neck, my hands finally threading through his hair. It is softer than I dreamed it would be and It feels so _good_ against my skin.

“You smell better,” he returns, “you can’t walk by me without sending me out of my mind.” His mouth hovers on my neck and I moan into the decaying landscape around us. Why hasn’t he kissed me, yet? I am distracted by fingers dancing in his hair, the movement sending a shiver through my body.

“You have no idea how badly I’ve wanted to touch your hair.” I say giving it a small tug.

He pulls away at that and stares at me.

“That is true.” He says with an air of confusion.

“What?” I ask, trying to get my fingers back into the dark strands that I have longed to touch.

“You have wanted to touch my hair. I know because...you think about it a lot.” This revelation seems to break the spell and he pushes me away from him. My cheeks are hot and I feel a sting from him rejecting me.

“So what if I like your hair? It isn’t the only thing about you I like.” I answer softly and his eyes widen slightly. He stills, his eyes scanning my face for answers.

“Rey. What else do you like about me?” It sounds less like a question and more of a command but I am happy to tell him and it comes out like water from a faucet.

“I like how strong you are. Not just physically. But you have endured so much. I can see how painful it’s been and you’ve kept finding ways to be resilient. And your smile. You used to never smile and now I get to see it all the time and it never gets old. And you’re so intelligent. Not just smart, but _wholly and completely_ intelligent. And funny. Funny despite how serious you are which I also like by the way. And you move so effortlessly in battle. It is beyond confidence and it is something else entirely. And yes, I like your _blasted hair._ So what?”

He stares at me, hand running over his mouth and my heart swells. It feels so good to finally tell him the _truth_.

I freeze. _The truth_. His eyes search my face and I look back, unsure what it is I am realizing even as it is happening.

“What else?” He asks, walking back towards me. Uh oh. I don’t want to -

“I Iike the way you look at me,” I answer, unable to stop, “I like that you always know where to find me, even when I force you out. I like the way you pick all the nuts out of the buns at breakfast. I like that you write excruciating long mission briefs and I like it even more when you tell me everything that’s in them when I don’t read it for myself. I like your eyes and how they have never lied to me, even when you tried to.”

I cough to stop myself from talking and I stare at him, the weight of what I have just done settles around me like ice. This isn't a pool of desire at all. What it is, is another type of truth enchantment. A whole giant glittering body of it. What a _dick_!

“Not cool, Ben Solo.” I snap, stepping around in the pool of alien goo.  His eyes are locked onto me as the space between us grows smaller.

“Sorry. Couldn’t help it. You can ask me, though.”

“Ask you what?”

“What I like about you.” He replies with a small smirk. I have never wanted to hear anything more despite the fact that I am burning alive with embarrassment.

“Go on then. What do you like about me?” I cross my arms over my chest.

“Everything. I like that the light follows you wherever you go and that you eat like a starving giant. I like the way your nose twitches, and when you wear your hair down. I like that you fight with me but you never give up on me. I like fighting alongside you. I like watching you learn something new for the first time. I like that you never forget what I tell you after _ignoring_ my mission briefs. I like the way you think about touching my hair and I love the way you say my name.” He bites back whatever more was to come and I feel moderately satisfied with his turn to feel embarrassed.

“Do you _like_ when I kick your ass in training?” I ask, not quite ready to let it go.

“Yes.” He answers with a widening smirk.

“How about when I steal your snack rations when we are out on missions?”

“Yes, even then.” He answers.

I go to ask another question when he interrupts, “Last week. Someone left me a pile of fresh parchment in my room. Was it you?”

I grit my teeth, “Yes.” Not to be left open for another question I quickly think of my own.

“Do you really let me win when we are training?” I sound indignant and he laughs.

“Rarely. A lot less than I say I do. You just get so angry when I tell you I let you beat me.” I _knew_ it.  He’s quick to take his turn asking a question.

“Why did you agree to do these missions with me?” He asks and it is woven with doubt.

“Because I couldn’t stand the thought of someone else getting that much time alone with you.” I wince and I turn away from him. He’s silent, thank gods. I think about asking him why he betrayed the First Order, but I already know the answer. I could ask him why he hasn’t left the base in favour of a less...hostile environment. But I think I know the answer to that question too.

“Why were you so worried about this being a pool of desire?” I ask quietly and he coughs before the answer is compelled out of him.

“I thought that since I already _desired_ you...that I might have lost control.” He doesn’t make an attempt to ask me a question so I continue.

“If that is how you really feel...why haven’t you done anything about it?” The question hangs between us. Countless opportunities come to mind and I find my wheels spinning at our shared missed chances.

“Because it felt unthinkable.” His voice drops before he asks in return, “Do you want me to do something about it?”

“Yes.” The permissive syllable has not fully left my lips when I feel him flush against me, his arm pulling me close against his chest. His mouth presses at my temple, his hand threading into my hair.

“What do you want me to do?” He asks and I feel my body sigh in return.

“You know what I want.” I answer and his mouth moves slowly, pressing a featherlight kiss on my cheekbone, making my body slack at the contact.  

“It was hard to tell,” he begins, “from the glimpses I saw...if you truly felt the same as I do.” He presses another kiss into my cheek and my grip on him tightens. My mouth feels numb and he continues gently mouthing at my skin.

“But you knew how much I liked your hair?” I breathe with a smile, my eyelids fluttering closed as I thread and rethread his hair between my fingers. He laughs lightly, rubbing his face gently against mine.

“Yes. _That_ much was clear.” His hand runs over my jaw and tilts my face up towards him.

“Did you know how much I wanted you?” He asks and my chest fills with an explosive pressure.  

“I knew how much I _wanted_ you to want me.” My voice sounds breathless and he bends to me, his lips gently pressing against my own and I feel like electricity personified. His body shifts against me, grip tightening and lips opening and it feels like I am falling from that bloody cliff all over again.  

He tastes like _Ben_. He is powerful and passionate and distinctly himself. I moan into his mouth as my hands tighten in his hair. I swear I feel his heartbeat quicken as he leans further into me, his movements desperate and hurried. As I break from his mouth to breathe he latches onto my throat, trailing open kisses along my neck and jaw until he finds my lips again, the needy rumble in his throat makes me throb.

I can feel the hot sting of truth bubbling up through my chest again, but I don’t try to stop it, “I have wanted to taste you for so long.” The accompanying visual that my desire evokes spills into our bond and he jerks against me.

“Rey.” He says my name as if he’s pleading for something and I can feel him, so clearly, through the bond. Maybe for the first time ever there is no shield. No hiding. Just him. It terrifying and electric and beautiful.

“I need to be alone with you.” He whispers and I can feel, actually _feel,_ how much he means it.

“Then let’s go be alone.” I mummer against his jaw, eyes heavy with desire. Adrenaline is coursing through me and it feels like I am vibrating out of my body. His hand slides down my arm, our fingers threading together and my legs nearly give out at how complete I feel. With a kiss on my hairline, he walks us towards the ship, our hands tight on each other like a vice.

“Do you feel any different? “ He asks quietly - I can feel the self doubt in him emerge the further away we get from the glittering pool.

“No.” I assure him and he glances down at me, a small smile quirking his lips.

“Good.” His answer sends heat through my spine.

As we enter the ship’s doors, he presses me back against the wall with a thud - a mumbled “sorry” is drowned out by our mouths as he seals himself against me. The wet heat of his mouth is more than I can take. I don’t even know if I am doing this right. “ _Am I doing this right?”_

“Yes.” He whispers. I smile, letting his strong and soft lips set the pace. I meet his tongue and he presses me back hard into the wall with a groan. The ship’s lights are blindingly bright but he is the only thing I can see. The midnight black of his clothes, of his hair - the closer he is to me, the more I struggle to breathe.

“Can I touch you?” He asks quietly and my body arches into him. I can feel the thread of something beneath his words and I press into it - searching for its meaning. He wants us to keep talking, keep being honest. I can feel him delighting in the fact that we aren’t hiding from each other. That he isn’t hiding from me.

“Yes,” I whisper, “I want you to.” I look up at him and watch him feel me let go of the walls around me. Letting him fill every space inside my thoughts and experience every atom of me.

He hooks his hands around my thighs and lifts my legs up and around his center. I gasp at the hardening length between us. He shifts against me and my insides flood with fire. His mouth captures mine, his hand brushing lightly over my jaw and my breath hitches against him.

His mind is open for me and his thoughts aren’t words - its pure emotion. It is like trying to translate an exploding star and my eyes close against the wall behind me.

After a beat his large hands run down my body, squeezing my ass with a small laugh. I crack open an inquisitive eye to him.

 _“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time.”_ I laugh at his silent answer, my hands disappearing into his hair with an urgency I can’t explain. All I know is that I need him closer.

“Was it everything you thought it would be?” I ask, a little too breathless for my own liking and I feel his thoughts snap to attention.

“You are always more than I could ever imagine you’d be.” He answers as if he’s shocked I wouldn’t already know.

“But especially your ass.” He adds, grabbing a handful and giving me a deep, nearly painful squeeze. I gasp and try to pull myself out of his grip which only incites him to use both hands until I am positively squirming between him and the wall.

His touch on me is pure heat and I know that it is him - his touch, his energy that ignites me in a way that can’t be replicated. He swells at my internal praise and I smile into his kiss.

Suddenly the comms unit on my pack beep to life and the sound is almost deafening.

“Rey. Are you alright? You were supposed to check in by now.”

The interruption sends my heart into a beating frenzy for a totally different reason. He clears his throat and moves off of me - I can feel him withdraw from our connection and I open my mouth to question him when I am interrupted.

“Rey, we need a confirmation.” Rose’s voice hangs in the air and I try to ignore the emptiness that is growing behind my ribcage.

“I’m here.” I force the words out and drag in a ragged breath. I can still feel him on my lips. I try to catch his eyes, but they are dark and unreadable. I reach out but find nothing. He’s shut me out. Rose replies, her voice crackling slightly through the device. When the noise stops I realize I haven’t heard a single word she said.

“Rose, everything is fine - I will connect later.” I turn off my device as I vibrate in the silence between us.

“Ben,” I whisper, “what’s wrong?” I may not be able to sense him now, but his despair lingers within me and I feel hollow. He looks away from me.

“We should head back.” He answers, ignoring my question and moving towards the pilot’s seat. I’m frozen. Shock and confusion turning my insides to ice.

“I don’t - can you talk to me? Please?” My voice is quiet and as the ship hums to life I wonder if I even spoke out loud at all. He doesn’t respond and goosebumps spread over my flesh.

“Don’t do this.” I whisper and despite the noise of the ship I know he’s heard me. His limbs pause - hand flexing over the control board.

“We are already behind schedule.” He resumes his activity over the ship and I try to steady myself.

It feels like a kaleidoscope of thoughts and questions are shattering around me. The balance I had felt just moments ago has disappeared and the longing left in its place is nearly...unimaginable. I slide into the seat next to him and close my eyes. It feels like half of me has been gutted out; my veins like sparking wires and my skin like jagged metal.

Echoing up through my mind is the insidious voice of isolation and fear, _"Stupid girl. No one chooses to stay with you.”_

His head snaps in my direction.

wouldn’t need the force to feel it and at the moment I don’t care if he heard me. I don’t dare to glance in his direction, I’m too afraid of my reaction so I stare ahead, buckling up and adjusting the buttons on my comms unit.

He doesn’t speak the entire trip home and when we land he leaves so fast he’s barely a dark blur in a landscape of bright lights and smiling faces.

 

* * *

 

“What in the galaxy _happened?”_ Leia’s question hits me before I even step into the boardroom. I don’t ask her to explain what she means - I know exactly what she’s asking. We have been back for nearly a week and he hasn’t let himself be in my presence for more than a split second.

Great question, Leia.

“I...I don’t know.” I answer, the painful ache blooming again at the thought of him. She eyes me carefully.

“Well, something happened,” she continues with narrowing eyes, “he has asked me to assign him to the outer rim.”

My heart collapses at her words and I use every ounce of strength I have to neutralize my expression.

“Oh? When?” I hope I sound casual. Judging from her expression, I do not.

“Rey, please talk to me,” she implores, “he won’t. Or he can’t, I can’t tell anymore.” I nod, pushing the violent emptiness aside.

“Yes well, I guess you could say _something_ happened.” I start and when I freeze she waits a beat before twirling her fingers in a “get on with it, then” motion. I huff at the gesture with a smile despite how awful it is to to relive.

“When we were collecting the artifacts...there were some enchantments left on the planet with unusual side effects. Long story short we ended up being honest with each other. Like, painfully honest. About how we feel about one another.”

“And?” She presses, her voice soft.

“And then something happened that made him change his mind.” I hastily reply, unable to get into the details of it. She nods, filling in the gaps I left with my explanation.

There is a long stretch of silence before she takes my hand.

“He’s in the west outer boardrooms, second level - you’ll be able to find him.”

I pause at the information. _Go to him!_ My body screams and I swallow the urge to scream in relief.

“Thank you.” I spin and nearly run out of the room, heart exploding. I suppress my connection to the force, hoping that he wont sense me coming and disappear before I can get to him.

There’s just one thing I need to get before I go to him.

 

* * *

 

 _If I were a preacher would I find you in my words?_  
 _If I were a shepherd would I find you in my herd?_  
 _Ink commits to paper what the mind will dissolve_  
 _And all through the world is where I find you._  
  
_But I won't be long._  
 _I've a loaded gun, and one last run_  
 _I won't be long._

_Leave the light on, till I get home._

_\- Dustin Tebbutt | Where I find you_


	3. Chapter 3

_Deep in my heart, I hear you calling, but I won't let you in._ _  
_ _I'm so afraid that I'll keep on losing, but you're whispering, trust in me, love me._

_\- Mr FijiWiji, Holly Drummond & Direct | Trust in me _

 

* * *

   


By the time I reach the boardrooms, I’m on tiptoe.

Hands shaking, I run them over my tunic, suddenly realizing I didn’t even fix my hair - my thoughts come to a halt when I see the tiny red light outside one of the boardroom doors signalling that the room is occupied.

I can’t hear a thing over my deafening heartbeat. Approaching the door, I raise my hand, limbs thrumming with fear. This is it. I have to be ready. I reach out with the force - with a whir and a click the door opens and I step inside.

He nearly leaps from his chair.

I quickly lock the door with a deafening bolt and turn to face him.

“Ben, please. Give me a chance to talk to you.” His eyes torpedo into me and I am nearly bowled over by the depth of them.

“Rey.” He breathes, eyes searching my face. I can’t help the instant way my eyes fill with tears. It hurts to be this close and so far away from him.

“Please don’t go.” I blurt out before looking away, hands in fists.

“I have to.” He answers, voice soft. I shake my head.

“No. You don’t. I don’t understand why you think you do.” I step towards him and he steps back as if he might be burnt from my touch. It stings somewhere deep inside my chest. Badly.

Clearing my thoughts, I nod tightly and shove my hands into my pockets.

“I guess if that’s how you really feel…” I trail off briefly before I whip a ball of cloth at his chest, his hands catching it upon impact as dust clouds over his face.

I can see shock register on his features a second before it is taken over by realization. And then he sneezes.

“You sneaky little scavenger.” He shakes his head in disbelief at the truth dust floating in the air. The specks catch in the light as it settles around him.

With a sad laugh he shakes his head, “I wouldn’t have lied to you.”

“You’ve been avoiding me,” I begin, “I need to know why.”

“Because it kills me to see you.” He returns. I try not to let myself become distracted by the fire in his eyes or the tremble of his fist.

“Do you want me?” I ask softly.

“Yes.” His automatic answer makes my chest feel lighter by at least a thousand pounds.

“Then why won’t you give me a chance?”

“Because you deserve better.” He glares as he answers, whipping the ball back at me. It plumes with dust and his eyes set into a line.

“Have you thought about what your friends would say?” His question cuts through me and I shake me head.

“No.”

“Do you think they would _ever_ accept you being with me?”

“No.” The answer escapes me instantly and it silences us both. “But they would try. For me. And with time - “

“With time, what?” He asks, voice raising. “They would just forget? They would invite me to dinner parties? Ask me to babysit their kids?”

I am taken aback by where his mind has gone and I shake my head in disbelief.

“What difference would any of that make if I am...” I can’t finish the sentence out loud. _“If I am incomplete. Fragmented. Broken. Is there even a word for this?”_ His eyes meet mine and I know he’s heard me but his features sour almost instantly.

“You’ll have _no issue_ finding someone to be your other half.” He spits.

“You know that's not true.” I stutter slightly at the thought. He saw inside of me. Certainly he knows there will never be another -

“No? Do I imagine the traitor and that pilot following you around like lovesick puppies?” Even though the dust has worn off, the envious truth seeps through his accusation. I laugh outright.

“Yes, you _do_ imagine.” I say with as much force as possible. Without hesitation I throw the ball back at him.

“Do you have _any_ idea how alone I’ve felt?” I nearly scream with frustration.

“Yes.” He answers and he at least sounds half as empty as I feel. “I can feel your pain, radiating off of you every second of the day.” I stare at him, his eyes cast down.

“Then how can you do this?” I ask, chest heaving.

“I want you to have everything. And you can’t have it with me.”

“You assume I can’t have it with you. How _dare_ you make that choice for me.” I walk towards him and he runs his hands through his hair and over his mouth in a fluid motion.

He stiffens the closer I get to him and I rip the powdery fabric open in between us, covering us both in what’s left of the dust.

“Ask me if it's worth it.” I demand. His jaw clenches for a beat before he appeases me.

“Is it _really_ worth it to be with me and jeopardize everything? To risk your entire life?” He bites.

“Yes.” I breathe out. “It _is_ worth it, even if we fail spectacularly.” He looks down at me, eyes soft.

“I love how optimistic you are.” The truth dust compels the musing from him and I reach out gingerly for his shirt, gripping the fabric and nearly burning at the proximity.

“Have you felt as shattered as I have?” My voice is a whisper. I feel blinded without our connection and I am desperate to see inside of him.

“Moreso, I imagine.” He replies quickly, hands slowly reaching for me. As he pulls me against his chest, I stop myself from moaning at his enveloping heat. Finally.

“I have wanted this since the second you pulled away from me.” I mumble into his chest, the dust beginning to fade. This is a truth I would have offered anyways.

I press against our connection but he is still hidden from me. “Please.” I ask, moving to nose at him lightly against the underside of his jaw.

“You may not like what’s inside.” He warns.

“Let me be the judge of that.” He sighs and I find his hand, threading my fingers through his.

Slowly the connection ignites. I’m filled with a freezing ache and the flowering doubt of his self-loathing. A barrage of thoughts clash with one another and I can’t quite separate them.

_notgoodenoughshe’stooinnocentnobodywilltrustmeIdon’tdeserveherI’llneverbegood-_

“Ben.” I whisper against his neck, his anguish is thick and coats everything inside of him. “Can I show you something?” I ask softly.

“Anything.” In my mind I recall a memory that replays and replays inside of me.

We are on the ship, space flying around us. He is meticulously going through his notes, updating the mission brief I absolutely had _not even looked at_ when I notice a light blue wrapper peeking out from underneath some supplies on the shelf in front of me.

My eyes go wide and my memory shifts to exactly six standard weeks prior. There had been a celebration at the Resistance. Allies from across the galaxy came to celebrate - and they brought extravagant gifts and food with them. More food than I had ever seen in my existence. It was obviously one of the best days of my life.

Mountains of delicious new mysteries were laid out on tables, a feast in every sense of the word. Finn and I had bounced from table to table, sampling _everything_ and most things twice. Piling our third and fourth plates into our arms we sat across from each other and dug in like we had never eaten before in our lives.

The flavours were overwhelming. Spices and herbs and textures that I had never imagined flooded my senses and I felt delirious from the gluttony of it all. I looked up to see Poe join us, his plate higher than my own and the smile that split into Finn’s face filled me with joy before a pang of loneliness ran through my limbs.

_Was it Ben’s or my own?_

I cleared my throat and stood suddenly. Poe and Finn glanced up, a question on their faces before they answered their own confusion with a bit of a sigh and pursed lips.

“I’ll be right back.” I assured them, grabbing my plates and making a beeline for the training rooms.

Opening the doors, I saw him with my wooden staff beating against the punching bag that swung from the ceiling.

“Hey.” I shouted across the room and he stilled, staff lowering before he turned.

“I grabbed you a plate.” I said motioning to one of the food mountains. He glanced at the food before his eyes met mine with accusation.

“Neither of those plates were meant for me.” He answered with a small smirk catching his lips.

“Well it’s yours _now_.” I knew I was smiling too wide as I held it in his direction.  

He had stalked towards me, his bare arms flexing as he rolled his shoulders back. His hair was slightly matted from his workout and I tried to squash the persistent _want_ I had to touch the damp tendrils and twirl it between my fingers. His eyes flickered and I focused on my plates of food to derail my thoughts. _Get a hobby, you silly girl_. I thought, already annoyed with myself.

“If you say so,” he murmured before adding a quiet, “thank you. I plopped down in front of him, crossed legged and digging into my plate as he lowered himself to the ground slowly, as if he had never eaten off of a floor before and wasn’t sure if I was serious. I was.

“Do you know what this is?” I asked, holding out a tiny rice disk with some sort of fish on top. He glanced over.

“Sulyet. From Quarren.” Hmm. I shoved it in my mouth, appraising the sweet and sour flavour.

“I like it.” I affirmed and he huffed in response.

“What’s this?” I asked as I picked up a ground meat square. He had looked up and paused. His eyes resting on my fingers.

“Corellian spiceloaf,” he answered, “my mother used to make it.” His eyes had remained on my hand as I threw the whole square in my mouth.

“I like this too,” I had mumbled around a mouthful of food, “it’s spicy.” His eyes snapped up to me.

“You have terrible taste.” His voice was soft and there had been a smile that warmed the lines on his face as he said it.

I fished around my plate for a small light blue wrapper that had caught my attention at the table. It had a ball of _something_ inside it and I threw it at his chest. He caught it and tossed it lightly back onto my plate.

“Those are like a low-budget amuse-bouche. Before you ask, it’s an Endorian grava berry covered in cocoa.” Not caring in the slightest that I was mid-bite, I carefully unwrapped the delicate packaging and gingerly popped the brown dusted circle into my mouth.

It was like an explosion. I had never tasted anything so luxurious in my life. The powdered outside was rich and coated my mouth instantly. As I bit into the berry, fresh and bright liquid slid down my throat in a dance of invigorating flavours. _This is the best thing I have ever tasted._ I thought with delight.

“You have disconcertingly low standards.” He had replied outside of the bond and I opened my eyes to see him staring.

“Amuse what?” I had ignored his comment, secretly delighted for him to explain this new word to me.

“It is a small bite you’d eat like an appetizer. Except it’s meant to be the chef’s creative teaser for the rest of the meal,” he shifts and nods to my still-chewing mouth, “although those are nearly inedible.”

“Have you even _tried_ it?” I asked, searching my plate for another.

“I have. It’s nothing special.” He answered, finding one of the blue wrappers under a pile of his food and pulling it out for me. I immediately ripped it open and groaned as I ate it.

“You’re a _fool_ , Ben Solo.” I admonished, laughing as he picked around his plate. I felt a blanket of darkness flood the bond a second before he spoke next.

“You don’t have to do this.” His abrupt turn of mood caught me off guard and I stopped chewing.

“Do what?” I had asked, a frown pulling at my mouth.

“Be here.” He hadn’t said it out loud but he had finished his thought in his head, _“Be here with me.”_

For a second I was too stunned to speak. I wasn’t there because I thought I _should_ be.

“Is it so hard to imagine that I might _want_ to be here?”

 _“Yes.”_ Came his silent response and it hit my ears like a hiss. I let out the air in my lungs and he stood, signalling the end of our training room picnic. I could feel him closing himself off from me, a painful ache that faded with his signature.

I had not wanted to argue so I stood in front of him, pulling my last blue wrapped ball of heaven from my plate and held it out to him.

“Will you at least give it another try?” I asked as he sighed, a pained expression spreading across his features.

“Fine.” He unwrapped it quickly, popping it into his mouth with an annoyed chew. After a beat I saw him taste it, his face shifting slightly.

“It’s pretty good, isn’t it? I let myself smile up at his contemplation. I knew better than to push him when he feels uncomfortable so I stepped out of his way to let him know it’s okay that he wanted to leave.

He nods tightly, “It’s better than I remembered.” And with that he had walked past me and disappeared into the back hallways of the Resistance.

I returned to Finn and Poe, their faces were twisted in laughter but I couldn’t match their contentment. Even after I polished off plate number five.

Still clinging to him in the boardroom, my memory shifts back to that initial discovery of blue on the ship, of me finding the little wrapped ball where it most certainly didn’t belong.

This wasn’t the first time, either. For weeks after the night of the celebration I found those small bites of ecstasy all around me. In the hollow of my boot, under my desk in my room, among my supplies at the loading docks and hidden in other random corners of my life. I _knew_ it had to be him, even though his mind never revealed it. Carefully plucking it from the shelves I walked over to where he was sitting, unsure of what I even wanted to ask.

“Is this from you?” I eventually started and when he looked up his eyes ghosted over the wrapper as if it was nothing familiar to him.

“Is _what_ from me?” He asked, not quite annoyed. I hold up the wrapper, the beautiful blue hue stood out against the beige of the ship like a lightning bolt.

“This delicious ‘amuse-bouche’.” I accused, holding it out like it was exhibit A.

He leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms.

“If I needed to give you something, Rey, I would just give it to you.” He asserts with a deadpan tone and I ignore the way the thrum of his voice and the power of his crossed arms makes me feel inside. His hair frames his face - the dark waves shining under the lights and I scowl further, irritated that his commanding presence is so _effortless_.

“Is that so? Because I cannot imagine _how_ these could have gotten to me on their own.” I press, searching his mind for proof. I can find none.

He stares back, the faintest smirk appearing. My eyes narrow. How can he mask himself so convincingly? And more importantly, why lie about doing something _nice_?! I try to remember that even Snoke was fooled by him and it makes me feel marginally better. Marginally.

“I don’t know how you are able to hide this from me but I _know_ you are responsible,” I glare at his unfazed expression, “and I just want to say...thank you.”

I had turned on my heel, unwrapping the dessert with an excited smile. My chest ached and my head buzzed with a strange euphoria. The bond was alive with a soft warmth, an uncommon feeling of joy lingered in his signature. I heard him laugh behind me, his voice was smooth and playful between us.

_“You’re welcome.”_

Now, in the very real present I slowly open my eyes, my lashes fluttering against his jaw. The boardroom comes back into view and I tug lightly on his shirt. The adoration and gratitude and connection I feel spills out of me from the memories and I know it envelops him. I may not be as good with words as he is, but I know he can feel what that small gesture had meant to me. And how I have an endless supply of memories that end much the same way - with my heart full because of something Ben Solo _did_.

He leans back, eyes closed at the sensation. His darkness ebbs away from the onslaught of my emotions.

“Rey.” He whispers, gripping me tighter to him. He presses his face against my temple, mouth pressing into my hair.

“You give me too much credit.” He breathes into my ear and I shiver hard against him, his grip on my hand tightening. I float in the shared space between us, his thoughts and emotions rippling through me.

I know how he feels. It burns through me and leaves me positively on fire for him. It is almost too much, the way our closeness echoes every touch, every thought. I press up against him and he groans as I thread my fingers into his hair.

 _“I want to try”_ I hope into the bond.

Finally open after so long of hiding, his thoughts are heightened and it pulses through my mind, _“me too.”_

His signature feels raw and in the time it takes me notice he’s tilted my face to his, his lips are searing over my own. The ecstasy and relief and desire that explodes through the bond is nearly enough to short circuit my senses.

“Ben.” I gasp, breaking the kiss. He’s quick to catch my bottom lip, tugging lightly as he lifts me onto the boardroom table. His broad body rests between my legs and I feel a jolt of heat run through my core.

“I am so sorry,” he breathes, “I hate that I hurt you.” I pull him closer to me, my lips sliding over his with new urgency. They are soft and warm and so urgent. His large hands grip my hips too tightly, pulling me against him with a harsh drag and I hiss against his mouth.

“Sorry.” He apologizes, grip lessening. _“I don’t know what I’m doing.”_ His self-conscious admission is accompanied by flashes of his past - a blur of night sky and a young Jedi’s mouth closing in, of smiles and hands and the uncertainty of what was to come. The long unbearable stretches of isolation and loneliness before the muted earth tones of the hut fill my mind and I see myself, hand extended to him and the rush that followed as my fingers touched his.

“I don’t know what I’m doing either.” I whisper, wondering what he sees as I say it. The wet heat of his mouth makes me feel mad, and as he slides his tongue over my lip I can’t help but think he seems to know _exactly_ what he’s doing. He smiles against me as my hands tug gently on his hair and he groans into my mouth. The sensation of pleasing him is instant and heavy. Addicting.

I do it again and he responds by fisting his hands into the base of my hair and tugging back. I gasp, the grip pulling my head back and giving him access to my throat which he promptly kisses.

The pressure of his mouth on the sensitive expanse of skin jolts me against him and he pulls me closer into him, his teeth scraping along my neck. His hands fall from my hair and pull desperately at the layers of my clothes and I feel an unfamiliar rush of excitement and terror. I can feel it echoing through us both in an endless loop - a need that has been so long denied it can’t be ignored. That the painful ache inside us both dulls with every touch and every thought of the completion and wholeness the other can give. His hands fist the material of my shirt as he sways on his feet, his mouth hovering over mine.

“Are you scared, _scavenger?_ ” There is no malice in the low thrum of his voice. Only a shy and self-aware levity, as if it were a personal inside joke. I realize it kind of is.

“Weren’t you the one who told me not to fear what I’ve already conquered?” I can’t help but press back, his smirk becoming more set in his face as I lean backwards on the boardroom table, elbows supporting me up enough to give him a casual once over. As if he wouldn’t feel the violent beating of my heart and the tremble in my voice.

“Of course _that_ is what you remember.” He deadpans, hooking his hands under my knees and pulling me forward hard, so that my center is held tight against him and his hardening length. I cry out at the sudden movement but the moment I take a breath his lips have resumed their exploration of my skin and I let out a soft moan as his hand spans over my chest, his fingers grazing over my breasts like it was what they were created to do.

“Is this okay?” He asks into my throat.

“Yes.” I answer and he moves down my body, pulling at the cloth around me and ripping at what doesn’t come away easily.

“Hey! I still need those.” I exclaim, but the empty air of the boardroom takes the bite out of my voice.

“For what?” He asks, and the drawl of his voice vibrates against my skin. His hands move over me with alarming ease and efficiency.  He unbinds the gauze of my breast band and unties the cloth around my arms as if it were a present he had saved for last on purpose. The hot breath of his mouth seals around my exposed skin and when he captures the sensitive peak of my nipple between his teeth I let myself gasp, a cry of pleasure stealing my breath. I feel him swell at the sound.

 _“I’m the one making you feel this way.”_ His force signature ripples around me, as he refocuses his efforts on giving me whatever pleasure it takes to hear _that_ sound again. His teeth bite lightly at the tender flesh of my hips as he unbuttons my pants, pulling them and my shoes off as if they personally offended him. He twists the thin material of my underwear in his fingers before pressing his face against me, hands on my hips so I can’t squirm out of his grasp, and he mouths at me through the cotton layer between us.

I don’t recognize the sound I make, but it fills the room as we work together in drenching the now useless fabric from both sides, his tongue using the friction to send my body into a tightening build of pleasure.

“You’re so fucking _beautiful._ ” He tenses as if he’s upset that he didn’t tell me sooner.

“Ben.” I gasp, realizing now that I am nearly naked and he is still fully clothed. His fingers dig painfully hard into my hips as he holds me at the edge of the table and he stands, pressing himself against me and finding my lips as I grip his shirt, trying to communicate that the fabric is not welcome in my hands.

“Don’t worry, I can even things out.” He mummers against my lips as he pulls off his shirt and I watch with heavy eyes at the exposed flesh of his chest, that broad an endless expanse and I don’t stop myself at all from letting my desire flood us both. I need him, and I need him _now_.  He looks down at me, eyes flickering over my face, his mouth tugging into a frown.

“I would never believe you if I couldn’t feel it for myself.” He whispers and I reach for him. I try to catch his lips the way he catches mine, but it is so much softer and unsure. He groans into me all the same and I feel a rush of electricity pulse through me, heat pooling at my core. He finally begins to undo his pants, the sound of his button and zipper are like lightning in my ears.

Everything is so heightened, that when he finally pulls off his pants and reveals himself to me I feel my mouth go slack at the sight. It is impossible not to stare at him, even though I feel the lick of uncertainty bleed through his desire. He’s big. Every part of him is proportional and as if it were hand-selected by a fussy architect who was looking for something universally desirable _and_ bespoke. I feel a bit under-dressed in my own skin.

“ _You_ are so fucking beautiful.” I say, stealing his word as the appreciation for his commanding form falls off of me in waves.

With a deafening crack his comms unit booms through the room, “Solo, we have an emergency and can’t locate Rey. Can you come to the med bay?”

 _God damnit, Rose_. Her voice is like a bucket of ice water. Ben swears loudly and I sit up, my senses in shock as I try to regain control of my body.

“We aren’t done here.” He grits, motioning to my shaking body and moving for the comms unit.

I lie back against the table, my heartbeat cancelling out whatever reply he gives to Rose. My core aches and my limbs feel tight. The reality of what was about to happen hits me and I breathe deeply, eyes glossy as they remain unfocused on the boardroom ceiling.

No, we are _not_ done here.

 

* * *

 

 _I'm growing tired of always running, from what I'm looking for._ _  
_ _Won't let this fear take over my life - not anymore._ _  
_ _Trust in me, love me, open up your heart and let our love begin._   
Trust in me and let me in.

_\- Mr FijiWiji, Holly Drummond & Direct | Trust in me _

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for taking the time to read! If you enjoyed, please please please let me know. This story is complete, breaking into parts as it got a bit too long for a one shot. 
> 
> Also, please feel free to stalk me on [Tumblr!](https://grey-orchids.tumblr.com/) at your leisure. 
> 
> Also again, I promise this is the last fic I write in first-POV. Maybe. I am going to try to get out of this perspective for my next round of fics. I just needed to explore it!


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